


Convergence

by darthrevaan (Burning_Nightingale)



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Before Battle, First Meetings, Gen, One-Sided Attraction, Pre-Canon, Space Battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Nightingale/pseuds/darthrevaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is shaped.</i>
</p><p>The lead-up to Malachor. The beginning of the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Convergence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreabean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreabean/gifts).



> This was originally supposed to be something wildly different, but I actually like how it came out?
> 
> Happy Yuletide, recip!

The desert moon of Palhar was not widely known throughout the galaxy, but it was famous for one thing; it was home to a particularly nasty creature known as the shadow spider. This animal had earned its moniker from its habit of waiting, still as stone, inside dark clefts in the rock until prey unwittingly walked past. Then it would strike, injecting a deadly, heart-stopping venom into its victim, and that would be that. The shadow spider was most famous because its venom had no known cure, and was thus a popular, though rare and expensive choice among professional assassins.

Meetra felt a little like the shadow spider right now; lurking in a dark hole until it was time to pounce.

She was never alone on the bridge, given the size of the space and the many personnel needed to keep the ship in orbit. But she felt isolated as she stood in front of the huge viewing window. Looking down on the planet below made her feel uneasy; it was a fertile world, but the presence of the ancient Sith Academy had steeped it in the dark side. There was something… _wrong_ about it, something insidious and subtle, like a noise just below the level of hearing. It made her feel like she wanted to scratch her own skin off.

But the Mandalorians would be incensed that they dared to amass a fleet there; there was a taboo in their culture against entering the entire system. Somehow, Meetra didn’t think that would stop Mandalore the Ultimate from leading his fleet against theirs. Like Revan had said, they were just too big a prize to pass up.

And hopefully, that would be enough to spring the trap.

She felt Bao-Dur’s approach in the Force long before she heard his steps on the metal deck. “General,” he said, stopping a short distance behind her and performing a smart salute. “We’ve been carrying out the final tests on the weapon. Everything looks complete and in working order.”

“You’re the only one who can judge, Lieutenant.” She turned to look at him. “No one else knows how this weapon should work.”

“If it works,” Bao-Dur said, looking down.

“You doubt yourself?”

“It’s an experimental design, General. We’ve never field-tested it before; we’ve only run simulations. There’s no way to know whether it will work properly…” He glanced away and then looked back, his expression worried. “In fact, it could do something entirely unexpected.”

Meetra chewed on the implications of that for a moment. The weapon was unlike anything she had ever seen, and she still didn’t understand the mechanics behind it. She understood what it was supposed to do, though, and with a weapon of that much power, there was really no suitable environment for a controlled test. And the unfortunate truth was that they had no time left to run trials; the weapon would have to perform, or they were all in trouble. “I would allocate more time for testing if I could, Lieutenant,” she told him honestly. “But we’re running out of it. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of the losses we’ve sustained.”

Bao-Dur looked down. “I think about them every day, ma’am.”

“I know you do.” She had sensed as much within him; he had a tendency to dwell on things, on past hurts. “Lieutenant, you can draw strength and purpose from your past hurts, but thinking them over constantly runs the risk of letting them consume you. I know you’re better than that. You cannot allow the past to control you.”

Bao-Dur looked surprised; apparently he either hadn’t expected this level of insight, or hadn’t expected to have such a frank conversation with a superior officer. Meetra was still getting used to the idea of rank, a system she was leery of even after all this time; and insight was just part of a Jedi’s life. He began to stutter. “I- General-”

“You don’t need to say anything, Lieutenant. Just think about my advice. And make sure that weapon is as ready as it can be.” Meetra turned back to the viewing window, and said, quieter, “They’ll be here soon.”

/

The bridge of Revan’s flagship was long and imposing, dark from the low red lighting and harshly panelled in bare metal. It made Meetra feel intimidated and uneasy as she entered, which she supposed was the intention. She looked left and right as she walked the long length of the bridge towards the viewing window and the dark figure waiting in front of it, and smiled slightly. Perhaps the décor also served to focus the mind on the stark reality of their situation; psychology had always been one of Revan’s strong suits.

Revan didn’t react as Meetra came up behind her. Casting her senses out in the Force, it took only the barest touch to tell that her master was in a light meditative trance, staring out at the field of stars without really seeing them. Meetra clasped her hands behind her back and stood silently, patiently waiting. It was the respectful thing to do, something that had been drilled into her during her time at the Jedi Temple; Jedi etiquette held that it was rude to pull someone from their meditation without a pressing reason.

A few minutes passed before Meetra felt a familiar awareness brush over hers. Revan, though deep in her trance, had sensed her arrival and was slowly rising to the surface. Meetra refrained from talking until Revan sighed deeply and blinked several times, lifting her head and rolling her neck slightly to get rid of the kinks.

“You asked to see me, Master,” Meetra said after another moment.

“Yes.” Revan turned her head to look at Meetra with her deep, piercing eyes. “There is something you must see, Meetra. I am setting a plan in motion; something which will bring about the next stage in this war – and perhaps, against all hope, its end.”

The end of the war – it was something Meetra dreamed about, longed for. She had no doubt Revan would be able to bring it about; she had in fact been waiting for an announcement like this for months. Now that the time was here, she felt a nervous swoop of anticipation in her stomach. “I am ready, Master, to serve as you see fit.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Revan held her gaze, and she felt the tingle of mental contact again. Meetra always felt that Revan could see through her eyes and into her thoughts, even when she didn’t probe their Force bond. But Meetra held nothing back from her; she opened herself to the bond, letting her Master in.

Revan lightly brushed the surface of Meetra’s consciousness, a safe and comfortingly familiar touch. It was more like a quiet question than an interrogation; Revan was already secure in the knowledge that she could trust Meetra. She just wanted to make sure she was ready.

Whatever she saw in Meetra’s head, it was enough to convince her. “Come,” she said simply, turning in a flurry of robes and striding towards the double doors that led from the bridge. “I hope you have left instructions for your Captain. This may take a day or so.”

“She’ll stick to protocol,” Meetra assured her.

Inside, she was alive with a mixture of apprehension and cautious optimism. If it was true that the end of the war was nigh, then perhaps there was a reason to hope again.

/

The lower decks of the ship hummed with energy, the output of the massive engines evident in the vibrating floor underneath Meetra’s feet, but also in the tremors and shudders that ran through the Force down here.

Revan liked to meditate on her feet in front of the bridge’s huge viewing window, the incomparable backdrop of an entire galaxy’s worth of stars laid out before her unseeing eyes. But Meetra found there was something too cold and distant in that view; for her, the almost claustrophobic closeness and muted pervasive thrum of the engineering deck was strangely comforting as she drew herself into the Force. There was a small storage cupboard down an out of the way corridor where she liked to hide and take a few moments for herself every now and then; a little time to refocus before leaping back into the fray.

As she reached out, she felt bonds jump to life and other minds call out to her across the vastness of space. The training bond with her old master, never fully severed, pulsed feebly a few times, like a tired old dog trying to draw its master’s attention. She didn’t want to touch it, though. She had left him behind, and he would be happier not knowing what she was doing or where she was.

The bond with Revan, vivid and alive and iridescently bright, burst happily to life in her mind’s eye, drowning out all else for a moment as it pulsed and shivered with the intensity of the connection. An echo that had a form like an amused, indulgent laugh reverberated back to Meetra across the link, and she realized Revan must also be immersed in the Force, and feeling the connection flare to life had probably distracted her. Meetra instantly sent feelings of regret and apology down the link; a moment later a strong wave of reassurance and comfort washed over her, engulfing her entirely like the high tide swallowing a stand of rocks. Meetra immersed herself willingly in the feelings of acceptance and belonging. She was aware of her own merit and worth, but it still amazed her sometimes that a Jedi and leader like Revan had chosen _her_ to trust, to bond with, to allow into her head and by her side.

 _You simply have the gift of easily making connections, Meetra_ , Revan’s voice echoed in her mind, amused.

That was true; she found it easy to bond with other people, and easy to reach out through those bonds and touch others, even over vast distances. Not many Jedi would be able to form a bond strong enough to transmit actual words over the kind of distance that separated Revan and herself. Meetra knew it was partly due to Revan’s skill and amazing power in the Force, but she also knew her abilities had their part to play.

The bond was a comfort, a source of solace and strength in times of hardship; a connection forged of affection, mutual understanding and trust. It was interlaced with everything they felt for each other; warmth, friendship, respect, awe.

And yes, Meetra could admit it to herself, there was a strand of longing mixed in, hidden beneath the surface. It didn’t bother her all that much; most people longed for Revan in some way. She was magnetic – she pulled people to her, drew them in and held them in a vice-like grip. Some might call people’s fascination with her obsession; Meetra called it faith.

Turning away from the addictive lure of their brightly pulsating link, Meetra reached out into the more calming embrace of the wider Force. As Revan and her overwhelming personality retreated back to her own mind, the gently ebbing and flowing currents of the Force washed over Meetra, and she lost herself in them. It was a hard feeling to describe in words; being at once one being and many, being lost in tides of energy that had no real equivalent to anything someone not connected to the Force would ever experience. It reminded Meetra of what really mattered; that all life was connected, balanced, and important.

She could lose herself for hours in meditation; instead she limited herself to an hour and a half. When she returned to full conscious she swept the ship with her senses once, noting with satisfaction that nothing seemed out of order.

On her way back across the main floor of the engineering deck, Bao-Dur appeared by her side and saluted. “General. We have been running more simulations, as requested. Perhaps you’re here to inspect the system for yourself?”

She hadn’t been, but there was no harm in doing so. “Yes. Lead the way, Lieutenant.”

The actual weapon itself was not on the ship; it was embedded in the planet below, protected by a large duracrete bunker. But the operating and activation system had been installed in a spare compartment in the back of the ship, where they had been able to easily connect it to the powerful communications array that would transmit commands down to the weapon.

The few technicians who worked on the project – all of whom Bao-Dur had handpicked – stopped and saluted to her as she entered the room. She acknowledged them with a short nod; she was far more interested in the set-up in the middle of the room.

It looked like a small energy pylon or weather monitor; one long cylinder punching upward, flashing lights dotted along its length, connected to a base covered in readout screens and boards full of buttons and switches. All horrendously complicated and extremely sensitive, no doubt. “It looks impressive, Lieutenant,” she said.

Bao-Dur stepped up next to her. The look on his face was concerned rather than amazed; he had obviously seen the device too many times to be dazzled by it anymore. “I am confident our simulations are giving accurate results, General,” he said. “But still, I am concerned…”

Meetra held back a sigh. At this point, he was beginning to sound like a broken record. “I know, Lieutenant,” she said patiently. “But you yourself told the Commander it couldn’t be field-tested.”

“It is…well, a weapon of mass destruction,” Bao-Dur said uneasily.

“Exactly. We will simply have to put our faith in it.”

“And in me,” Bao-Dur whispered.

Ah, so that was the heart of the matter. Meetra looked him over, taking in his downcast expression and slumped shoulders. Her first instinct was to reach out to him – but that would be taken as too familiar a gesture from a superior officer, only making him more uncomfortable. “Lieutenant- Bao-Dur, listen to me. You are a brilliant scientist, and you have calculated the power and effect of this device down to the smallest fraction of probability. If we have to place blind faith in someone, I cannot think of a better candidate.”

Bao-Dur looked up at her, the hint of a smile on his face. “I…really, General?”

“Yes.” Meetra looked back at the device. “If you tell me it will work, I will take your word for it. And if the worst should happen, and something goes wrong, I will know it was not through negligence on your part.”

“Thank you,” Bao-Dur said quietly.

“It’s the truth, Lieutenant,” Meetra said firmly. “And whenever you doubt yourself, I want you to remember it.”

/

The engines of the small shuttle waiting in the hangar bay were already running when Meetra and Revan stepped on board. The waiting crew members saluted once and then all filed off the ship, leaving them alone.

“We’re flying ourselves, Master?” Meetra asked as Revan moved toward the pilot’s chair.

“Very few people know about this project,” Revan said as she took the controls. “I wish to keep it that way.”

Revan said the flight would take around five hours; Meetra didn’t get a look at the destination she tapped into the navicomp, so it was a complete mystery as to where they were going. She had learnt not to be bothered by such things, though. It was in Revan’s nature to be cryptic.

They talked little. Almost as soon as she’d engaged the autopilot Revan slipped into deep meditation, and Meetra was tempted to join her there. Their joint meditations were always very intimate and intense – but even the thought of it made her eyes feel heavy. She was still feeling the effects of the battle on Dxun, and it would probably be in her best interest to sleep.

She had no trouble at all dropping off; it felt like only minutes until Revan was gently shaking her awake again. “We’re here, Meetra,” she said. She was standing over her, looking down with an expression of concern.

“What?” Meetra asked, rubbing her eyes.

“You look exhausted.”

“I _am_ exhausted.” Meetra gave her a weary smile. “We’re at war.”

Revan looked away. “Yes.” Before Meetra could say anything else – reach out, offer comfort – Revan had stepped back. “We’ve landed. The facility isn’t far away.”

A rush of cold air whistled into the ship as the ramp opened. As they descended, Meetra saw wide, flat plains stretching out into the distance, green but strangely bleak. She pulled her outer robe closer around her. “Where are we?”

“Malachor V.” Revan had already begun walking, but Meetra found herself frozen to the spot, unable to move past the moment of shock. Revan paused and turned her head. “Is something wrong?”

“The Sith Academy…”

“Is far away from here,” Revan promised. “You have nothing to fear.”

Meetra reached out with her own senses, and found only the Force signatures of harsh but tough, surviving life, the plains of rough grass populated with all manner of animals and plants. Far away in the west, just on the edge of her senses, she picked up the energy of what seemed to be a small, thriving town. And somewhere, faint and deep below their feet, there was something else; other Force signatures that she couldn’t quite grasp. They were too far away, buried under hundreds of tons of bedrock. “The facility is underground?” she asked.

Revan smiled, pleased. “Indeed.”

She led the way across the short grass to what looked like a small farmstead; a cylindrical building constructed of rough stone and plaster served as the main house, with two sheds for storing equipment and several enclosures that housed unfamiliar animals. An old man was sitting under a cloth awning, greasing the components of an engine he’d just pulled apart. He jumped to his feet as soon as he caught sight of them and smiled. “Commander! It’s good to see you again.”

“And you, Anis. How is everything?”

“Quiet. Not a soul around for miles.” Anis winked. “No one’s interested in a beat-up old farmhouse and a beat-up old man, after all.”

The hint of a smile touched Revan’s face. “No, they aren’t. Good work, Anis. Carry on.”

“Yes ma’am.” Anis gave her a sloppy, slightly mocking salute, grinning cheekily, and sat back down at his work bench.

“Old friend?” Meetra asked as they approached the main door.

“Yes. And an irreverent old bastard.”

When Revan pushed open the door to the farmhouse, Meetra had been expecting something that revealed its true nature; a high-tech lab, perhaps. Instead, it looked exactly as one might expect the home of an old, single male farmer to look. Though of course that, Meetra thought as they walked through the living room, was yet another layer of the disguise.

Revan stopped in front of what looked like an alcove partitioned off with a thick curtain, and drew the bright red hanging aside to reveal the only incongruous thing in the room; the doors of an elevator.

The ride down was going to be a long one, Revan warned her; they’d buried the facility deep in the earth, to protect it as much as possible. There were only two buttons on the lift – up or down. Revan hit the downward button and the doors slid closed, trapping them in a silent bubble.

At first Meetra wasn’t sure what to say. It hit her suddenly just how long it had been since she’d been alone with Revan, just the two of them together with no other outside influence. When they connected through their Force bond, it felt easy and natural, but now, out in the corporeal world, she somehow felt nervous.

 _Malak would know what to say._ That was true; Malak always knew what to say. _Exactly_ what to say, to make Revan smile, or relax. They had known each other so long, their friendship seemed as easy as breathing; when she had been on the outside looking in, admiring Revan from afar and longing for even a scrap of her attention, it had made Meetra burn with jealousy. She had come to respect Malak now and maintained a cordial relationship with him, but she couldn’t exactly say they were friends.

And now, feeling unable to speak, remembering that easy companionship made her determined to break through her sudden awkwardness. She asked the first question she could think of. “How do you find them? These people like Anis? The…wanderers?”

Revan turned to look at her fully, dark eyes questioning and deep. Meetra forced herself not to look away. “The wanderers…what makes you call them that?”

Meetra shifted awkwardly. “Well…actually, I was thinking about me, before I met you. I changed so much. Back on Dantooine I thought I had a purpose, becoming a Jedi, but when the war started, I realized I…didn’t know them like I thought I did.”

“Many people felt the same,” Revan said quietly. “It was what I felt. It was why I left.” Revan seemed to draw closer, though she didn’t discernibly take a step forward. “I felt betrayed by them; I had trusted them to guide me, to set me on the path, to show me the right thing to do. But when the war started, when systems were calling for the aid of the Jedi and they sat aside and did _nothing_ …”

“You realized you didn’t know them like you thought you did,” Meetra finished.

“And that people in positions of authority aren’t always correct. They can make mistakes.” Revan looked at her seriously. “That is what we must also remember, Meetra. We are in positions of power now, and we can _also_ make mistakes, no matter how righteous we think we are.” She looked away, and her expression was apprehensive. “Sometimes I spend every minute wondering if I’m not making a mistake,” she said, almost too low to hear.

Something clicked in Meetra’s mind, and she realized that the awkward distance between them might not just have been on her end. Revan had never been particularly demonstrative, but she had been unusually silent and unforthcoming in the last day or so. Now Meetra could guess the reason; Revan was unsure of her new plan, and she had brought Meetra here to reassure herself that she was doing the right thing. And Revan didn’t like being unsure, and she didn’t really like needing reassurance either. That was making her uncomfortable.

“You are the only one who could lead us,” Meetra said, “No matter how many doubts I have, I will _never_ doubt that.”

Revan looked back at her, and her expression was uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Meetra…”

“We all have faith in you.” Meetra wanted to reach out and touch her, but she wasn’t sure where, or if it would be welcomed, so she kept her hand by her side.

“So much faith,” Revan said softly. “I can’t disappoint you. I have to end it, no matter the cost.”

“You will never disappoint us, I _know_ it,” Meetra said stubbornly.

Revan smiled at her – a rare, fully genuine, unguarded smile. It was like the sun bursting out from behind heavy rain clouds; Meetra blinked, dazzled.

“I wish sometimes that you had known me before, Meetra,” Revan said. “I was a very different person before this war began.”

“I love the person I know now,” Meetra said firmly. Then she realized what she’d said, and wanted to bite her own tongue off in embarrassment.

Revan didn’t seem to read anything into the words – or she pretended not to, for Meetra’s sake. “Thank you,” she said, obviously touched – and then there was a chime, and the elevator doors opened.

 _This_ was the high-tech lab Meetra had been expecting. Carved directly out of the rock, the huge bowl-shaped chamber was filled to bursting with hundreds of machines and gadgets. It was an impressive sight to behold.

A few scientists stopped and saluted at their arrival, but most were so focused on their research that they didn’t even notice the elevator had opened. One man, however, was making his way towards them, and Meetra noted with some surprise that he was a Zabrak. “Commander,” he said once he was near. He stopped a few feet away and saluted smartly. “It’s good to see you back.”

“Yes, thank you. Meetra, this is Lieutenant Bao-Dur, the head of the operation here and the genius behind all this.” Meetra noticed that Bao-Dur ducked his head a little when she said ‘genius’, but he didn’t protest. “Lieutenant, this is General Meetra Surik.”

“An honour to meet you, General,” Bao-Dur said politely. “We’ve heard great things.”

Meetra wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just nodded. That seemed to be enough for Bao-Dur, who transferred his attention back to Revan and gestured toward the center of the room, where a large machine of a design unknown to Meetra was humming quietly. “You’re here to inspect the weapon, Commander? It’s just about ready.”

Revan nodded, and Bao-Dur led the way across the cavern floor.

“A weapon?” Meetra asked, low enough that Bao-Dur wouldn’t hear.

“Yes. Bao-Dur will explain.”

The huge machine had a cylindrical base, where readout screens flashed with information and control panels were covered in buttons and switches. Mounted on this were two large metal hoops positioned at right angles to each other; inside bands of what looked like pure energy were suspended, spinning around and around each other ceaselessly. The glowing circles washed their faces with blue light as they drew close. “I call this the Mass Shadow Generator,” Bao-Dur announced.

“A mass shadow _generator_?” Meetra asked incredulously. “I thought it was impossible to artificially create mass shadows.”

“Anywhere else in the galaxy it would be near impossible,” Bao-Dur agreed, “But here on Malachor the gravitational anomalies in the system can be exploited to generate a field of our own. The MSG should be able to create a mass shadow thousands of magnitudes greater than a normal planet would generate, thus pulling ships in orbit straight out of the sky.”

Meetra nodded. “I see. Using gravity we pull them out of the sky and they crash on the planet’s surface.”

“Yes, the pull should be too strong for them to effectively employ emergency landing techniques.”

“It sounds risky,” Meetra said, turning to Revan, “If we lure the Mandalorians into a space battle and then flip the switch, we’d be bringing down our own ships too.”

“There should be a safe zone, once a ship is far enough out of the planet’s orbit. If we can manoeuvre so that the Mandalorians are closest to the planet and then retreat, we should be able to make it out into the safe zone and then activate the Mass Shadow Generator.” Revan frowned. “But there is significant risk that our own ships will also be caught in the mass shadow’s envelope, yes. However, I feel this is a chance we have to take.”

“So we have to lure the Mandalorians into this system,” Meetra said.

“I am already beginning to amass several fleets in key locations; soon they will all move here into Malachor’s orbit. The system is forbidden to the Mando by taboo, and Mandalore knows we know this. He will think we picked this system specifically to spite him, or because we believe he would not dare come here. He will take the bait.”

Meetra looked up at the Mass Shadow Generator, letting herself be hypnotised by the circling bands for a few moments. “It’s an audacious plan,” she said quietly.

Revan smiled a little. “You know me, Meetra. I’m told I have a penchant for flare and drama.”

That made Meetra chuckle. “You do.” She looked at the blue rings for a little longer, then turned back to Revan. “Well, if you believe it will work, I will follow. I trust you. And if we can end the war…well, I’d do anything.”

Revan smiled. “Thank you. I must be elsewhere, so I need someone to lead the fleet here. That someone should be you.”

Meetra blinked; she hadn’t expected that. “But…I mean, Malak would-”

“Malak has his task. Besides, I also trust you, Meetra. I know you can do this.” Revan was looking at her seriously, her stare piercing.

Meetra swallowed and nodded.

“I need you to go back to your fleet and lead it here, then coordinate the other fleets when they arrive. Also, the remote activation device for the Mass Shadow Generator will need to be installed on your ship.”

“On my ship?” Meetra questioned.

“You are the highest ranked officer who will _definitely_ be in this system throughout the battle. If anything goes wrong, your ship will be here, and will be able to spring the trap.”

“And if anything happens to your ship, General, the MSG can always be activated from here,” Bao-Dur put in.

“Alright then. Do you have any other orders, Commander?” Meetra asked.

“Take good care of Lieutenant Bao-Dur. He and the technicians he chooses will be transferred to your ship once it arrives, to install, maintain and activate the device when commanded.”

Bao-Dur saluted. “Very good, Commander. I will begin to make selections immediately.”

“And I suppose I had best get back to my fleet,” Meetra said.

“Indeed.” Revan nodded to Bao-Dur. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Now, let us go.”

/

A message was waiting for her when she returned to her cabin. Meetra eyed the console warily; a communication from Revan or another member of the fleet would have come through official channels, not her private comm. This was either something off the record, or it had come from someone on Dantooine – and neither was a welcome prospect.

She let herself ignore it while she stripped out of her uniform and took a quick shower in the closet-sized fresher attached to her room. Then, clean and somewhat mentally fortified, she sat down in front of the console and played the message.

It wasn’t anything like what she’d been expecting.

The head and upper torso of a very familiar man flickered and wavered as the image blossomed up from the projector; Master Kavar. Meetra was so shocked she didn’t hear the first few sentences of his message. Kavar had been reported KIA over Antar IV two months ago; she was still having trouble getting used to the idea of him being dead. But now – was he alive? Or had this message been pre-recorded?

“Video, pause; replay from the beginning of message,” she commanded.

The image of Kavar paused, flickered; he appeared to twitch in place as the comm console jumped the footage back to the start. “Meetra,” he said, staring gravely out of the holoimage at her. “I know it must be a shock for you to see this message. Everyone believes I am dead, and that is how it must remain for now. The mission I’m on is important, so much so that I expect Revan didn’t tell even you about it – and I wouldn’t break that silence except for a message of the utmost importance.” He paused, looking down slightly, and sighed heavily. “In truth, Meetra…I’m worried about Revan.”

He stopped talking for several seconds, leaving Meetra anxiously awaiting his next words. Worried about Revan? Was there something she didn’t know?

“She has given so much of herself to this conflict, Meetra. Sometimes I think she’s given too much. Sometimes I think…she has let this war change her, and not for the better.” Kavar frowned. “I can’t say with certainty what makes me think this. I can’t point to any one action. You didn’t know her before, so I don’t expect you can see…” He shook his head. “What I’m trying to say, Meetra, is that I want you to watch her for me. Watch her _closely_. We’ve all seen how our entire war effort hinges on her leadership, her tactics. It is an immensely heavy burden for one woman to bear.” He sighed again. “Perhaps I’m simply an old man worrying over nothing. But something…something tells me I’m not. Some premonition from the Force, maybe, I don’t know. But look after her, Meetra, and look after yourself, too. I don’t want to see this war consume you, either of you.” He looked back up, the holoimage meeting her eyes directly. “I hope to be back soon. Maybe then we can speak in person. For now, Meetra, stay safe, keep fighting, and…remember what I’ve said.”

The console went dark. Meetra sat, still as stone, turning Kavar’s words over and over in her mind. She felt slightly ill, and not because Kavar had said anything revelatory – but because his words echoed fears that already gnawed at her own heart.

The Revan who led them now was different to the woman she’d met at the start of the war. She did things of which the Jedi would not approve – calculating, risky things, actions that sometimes skirted the line between light and dark. Meetra believed in her because she had led them to victory again and again, because she shone with hope like a beacon in the darkness.

But sometimes the woman beneath the mask retreated, and the shell that was left behind – it scared her.

Suddenly Meetra desperately wanted Revan there, wanted to talk to her, to assure herself that nothing was really wrong. That Revan was as she had always been, resilient, untouchable, as immovable and enduring as mountains or the stars themselves. More than anything she longed to relieve herself of this aching _doubt_ , to absolve herself of her unworthy, distrustful ideas.

The shrill tone of her wrist commlink broke through her thoughts like a lightning bolt.

Desperately relieved, she raised her wrist to her mouth and answered. “Commander Surik here, go ahead.”

“Commander, Lieutenant T’Nais here.” One of the bridge officers. “The captain requests your presence on the bridge immediately. Unidentified ships have just come out of hyperspace on the other side of the system; more are arriving as we speak.”

 _Mandalorians_. It had to be.

The time had finally come.

Meetra pushed all thoughts of doubt and uncertainty from her mind, expelling them resolutely from her consciousness before answering T’Nais. “I’ll be on the bridge in five minutes, Lieutenant. Get an identity on those ships and prepare for battle stations.”

“Aye aye ma’am.” T’Nais cut the connection, and Meetra rose and dug in her wardrobe for a new set of robes. As she pulled the tunic over her head the battle stations siren began to wail, and soon boots were clanging down the hallways outside.

The bridge was bustling with activity when she arrived. “Ma’am,” the captain stepped up to her and saluted smartly. “We have a positive identification on the ships; definitely Mandalorian. Nearly fifty have dropped out of hyperspace already, and more are coming all the time.”

“Their fleet is arriving,” Meetra said. “Contact the other captains, tell them to prepare for fleet to fleet engagement. And establish a line of communication with the Supreme Commander.”

“Negative on that, ma’am,” the comms officer said from her desk, “Supreme Commander is out of system, unreachable on long range comm. She might be engaging another force.”

Meetra frowned. Taking on the Mandalorian fleet without Revan was a lot more risk than she liked.

But she’d have to make do. On the off chance they weren’t together, Meetra asked, “Can you raise Commander Malak?”

The comm officer tried, tapping various buttons and adjusting sliders, then shook her head. “No, sorry ma’am.”

“They’re probably together then, wherever they are.” She turned to the center of the bridge. “Activate the tactical display.”

The hologram bloomed into life, blue and red points of light depicting friendly and enemy ships respectively. Three large green spheres were the system’s planets, while the large white orb in the center was Malachor’s sun.

A sudden chill shiver ran through the Force as Meetra watched the points of light representing the Mandalorian fleet grow more numerous on the display. _This is it_ , the Force seemed to whisper, _This is the end_.

 _I trust you_ , Revan’s voice whispered in her head. Reaching out, Meetra could touch the thread of their connection in her mind; it pulsed faintly, a warm glow that filled her inside. Revan was obviously fully focused on something else, but just the thought that she was there, alive and well, filled Meetra with resolve.

 _You said you trusted her, weeks ago when she showed you the weapon. Now is the time to prove it_.

No room for doubt. No room for mistakes.

“Send a message down to Lieutenant Bao-Dur,” she commanded the comm officer. “Tell him to prepare the Mass Shadow Generator for activation.”

**Author's Note:**

> Quote in the summary is by Tony Robbins.


End file.
